26-04-2025, 05:02 AM
Episode 27: Stillness in the Spiral
The morning sun had risen clean and bright, warming the edges of the college walls, drawing long shadows across the corridor floors.
But Arjun didn’t feel light.
He walked with his head down, earbuds in with no music playing, ignoring the sounds around him. His thoughts had taken on a rhythm of their own. Slow, tight, looping.
> What if it wasn’t just a dream?
What if he’d seen something real and just didn’t understand it?
Sleep had done nothing to soften it. If anything, the dream had hardened inside him, curling into a question he couldn’t shake:
Who is Meera, really?
And why did it feel like she belonged to something he’d never be part of?
---
In Class – Meera Teaching
The moment Meera walked into the classroom, everything inside him paused.
She wore a pale green saree today, loose and light, wrapped effortlessly around her. Her braid swung softly behind her back. She looked focused, calm, composed—exactly as she always did.
But to Arjun, she was a storm disguised as silence.
She turned to write on the board, one hand lifting the edge of her pallu so it wouldn’t smudge the chalk. That small gesture—natural, unconscious—revealed the slightest sliver of her side.
It was nothing. But it stopped him cold.
The lines of her body. The way she moved without effort. The soft crease above her waist where the saree folded. Her voice, low and even, carried over the classroom like it had its own gravity.
His spiral quieted.
Not completely. But enough.
He wasn’t okay.
Not really.
But she made the moment feel still, and for now, that was enough.
---
Inside Arjun’s Head
He stared down at his notebook, pretending to follow along.
But his eyes flicked back to her again and again. Not with hunger this time—but with something like reverence. Like he needed her presence to anchor him to the room.
> Whatever this is, he thought,
I don’t want to let it go.
Even if it’s one-sided.
Even if it’s just this.
And for the first time that morning,
he let himself breathe.
---
To be continued…
The morning sun had risen clean and bright, warming the edges of the college walls, drawing long shadows across the corridor floors.
But Arjun didn’t feel light.
He walked with his head down, earbuds in with no music playing, ignoring the sounds around him. His thoughts had taken on a rhythm of their own. Slow, tight, looping.
> What if it wasn’t just a dream?
What if he’d seen something real and just didn’t understand it?
Sleep had done nothing to soften it. If anything, the dream had hardened inside him, curling into a question he couldn’t shake:
Who is Meera, really?
And why did it feel like she belonged to something he’d never be part of?
---
In Class – Meera Teaching
The moment Meera walked into the classroom, everything inside him paused.
She wore a pale green saree today, loose and light, wrapped effortlessly around her. Her braid swung softly behind her back. She looked focused, calm, composed—exactly as she always did.
But to Arjun, she was a storm disguised as silence.
She turned to write on the board, one hand lifting the edge of her pallu so it wouldn’t smudge the chalk. That small gesture—natural, unconscious—revealed the slightest sliver of her side.
It was nothing. But it stopped him cold.
The lines of her body. The way she moved without effort. The soft crease above her waist where the saree folded. Her voice, low and even, carried over the classroom like it had its own gravity.
His spiral quieted.
Not completely. But enough.
He wasn’t okay.
Not really.
But she made the moment feel still, and for now, that was enough.
---
Inside Arjun’s Head
He stared down at his notebook, pretending to follow along.
But his eyes flicked back to her again and again. Not with hunger this time—but with something like reverence. Like he needed her presence to anchor him to the room.
> Whatever this is, he thought,
I don’t want to let it go.
Even if it’s one-sided.
Even if it’s just this.
And for the first time that morning,
he let himself breathe.
---
To be continued…
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